Darcy's Humorous Adventures
by Maiden of The Bear Spear
Summary: Darcy endures humorous adventures, often with Colonel Fitzwilliam. Modern AU.


Early Summer, Florida.

"Welcome to my chalet, my home away from home. My palace away from my palace."

In truth, the colonel's place of residence was a pigsty. Objects covered every possible surface. Not a single space was clear. Even the mounted swordfish had a shirt hanging of its bladed beak.

Unfortunately for Darcy, every seating space was occupied. After a long day with the colonel and his antics in everglades, he was tired, and he wanted a place to sit down. But there was no way he was going to clear his cousin's paraphernalia. Last time he did, there was a minor explosion in the box he was holding.

In the kitchen, pots and pans clanked while the colonel shouted over the clamor.

"You know I hit the stores during the holiday."

A loud clank announced a pot hitting the stove. Darcy gulped. The colonel generally tended to cause more terror in using the stove than the microwave. Three feet high flames are not necessary in frying asparagus.

"What holiday?

"Father's Day. The Father's Day sales are every reason to risk the traffic."

"What did you buy your father?"

"Oh, nothing much."

"Your brother?"

"Nothing much."

"Then who were you shopping for?"

"Myself."

"Do you know what the Father's Day sales are for? To whom it's aimed at?"

"Fathers."

"You are not a father."

"Of course I know that! But Father's Day also means sales of the manly variety. I bought three grills and a meat smoker. Do you think that my father and brother want a meat smoking machine?"

"No," Darcy replied, "they'd think it was some sort of vault, or container. The only reason I know what they are, is because of the time I was curious and looked inside one at your friend's house. That was a lot raw meat."

Booming laughter filled the kitchen. "I had never seen you so pale."

Darcy was pale thinking of it, still looking for a safe place to sit.

"But I also bought lazy boys."

"What?"

"Reclining chairs. A horde of them. The people at the store said they had never seen so many of them roll out of the store. Didn't you see the one in the living room?"

Darcy spun about the living room, then halted in front of the aforementioned object. He took a step back, not wanting to be so near the loathsome creature. Scowling at the chair's audacity to be in his presence, the younger man replied, "What on earth caused you to purchase such a horrid thing?"

"As I told you, they were on sale."

"But why?"

"It's really comfortable." As if he had been ignoring Darcy's criticism before, he asked, "What do you think of it?"

"Horrible, horrid, horrific."

"Why not be more creative in your description."

"Running on a theme here."

But the terrible truth of the matter was it being the only place that was not covered with stuff. Knowing the Colonel, Darcy did not want to move any of his cousin's belongings.

After some time of anguish, Darcy gave a great sigh and sat down in the loathsome chair. Although the chair was completely unsuitable to his style, he found the chair strangely comfortable. But the wealthy young man would have never admitted this to anyone.

The Colonel kept on talking and cooking for some time, Darcy was falling asleep, when the Colonel spoke offhandedly. A light remark which wrought great terror for Darcy.

"Blood and thunder!"

The colonel bent down to inspect his side.

"What is it?"

"I've got paint on my pants from brushing past the chair. The paint on it refuses to dry, can't sit on it or put anything on it."

All the relaxation departed from Darcy as he realized what his cousin meant. Horror dawned on him, but he hoped against hope that his fears were wrong.

"Colonel," he said evenly, "which chair did you paint?"

"The gold lazy boy of course, can't you see it? You called it terrific."

"You very well know I called it horrific. Surely you did not paint a fabric chair."

"Do you honestly think they sell it in that color? There is nothing on the chair, or else the gold paint smears on it."

"decide to paint it gold?"

"I wanted some variety. I have this can of spray paint."

Darcy attempted to get out of the chair without making much noise. Blessedly, at that same moment, the colonel clanged his pots. The sounds rivaled the noise made of pots thrice their size and number made. Added the loud creak of the chair, it was overall, quite the commotion.

Before the ruckus was finished, Darcy had lept up and hurriedly searched. The living room mirror confirmed his fears. Most of the back half of himself was shimmering gold. He fled to his guest room before his host could see him, the jokes would never end if the Colonel did see him.

By the time the amateur cook finished dinner, his cousin had changed clothes, scrubbed the gold paint out of his hair to the best of his abilities, and the contaminated garments were hidden in a plastic bag, away from snooping cousins.

No comment on his changed appearance was made, the cook was more concerned with his food. Darcy thought he was going to get away with the incident unnoticed, when the Colonel chuckled.

"What is it?"

"You've got gold paint on your hand and arm. Must have touched the recliner." He shook his head, deeply tickled at this, laughed again.

"Where are the others?"

"What?"

"Where are the other reclining chairs? Your horde of horrible chairs?"

"They're in storage now, I might move them to my other place later on."

Darcy wanted to point out the unwieldiness and high expense of shipping the chairs across the country, but thought better of it. The Colonel would merely point out some of the overpriced items he, himself had shipped. Rather, he carefully poked at his meal.

The Colonel's cooking should always be eaten with caution.

The aforementioned cook succumbed to a fit of chuckles, which swelled into full guffaws.

"You the multi-millionaire, get gold without even trying!"

For the umpteenth time, Darcy was grateful the Colonel had not witnessed the display of half of himself in gold shimmer. He would have never hear the end of it.


End file.
